Untitled
by mywonderworld
Summary: Just a quick one to get me in the groove of writing Destiel. This is one of my ideas as to how Destiel could potentially look on the screen. They both know but to Dean, the feelings seem one-sided. Why is Cas reluctant? If you can think of a title for this please let me know because I have no idea. I'll credit you in the summary. Be nice in the reviews, please :)


It'd been a week since the fatal conversation. The confrontation that made years of flirting, hidden glances and sly touches real. Dean brought Castiel into his "brand new" bedroom, showing him all around, pointing out every detail like a child exhibiting his very own castle. After they sat down on the bed, admiring the quaint little cave in silence for a bit, Dean decided he'd say it.  
_I have to say something_. he'd thought over and over, _Before he leaves again. Before he's gone again._ He didn't have a speech planned or anything corny like that, but this was it. The moment.  
"Listen, Cas..", he'd sputtered, hands visibly shaking. "I um...you know that I appreciate all that you have done for me and Sammy, right? And, uh..that means a lot to me. _You _mean a lot to me...and I...I just wanted you to know I feel like me and you, you know..we kinda, we're close, you know?" _I am so stupid_, he thought, clenching his fists tight in his lap in anticipation.  
Castiel sat there, blankly gazing at Dean for what seemed like an eternity.  
_Say something, dammit  
_"Dean, I uh...", he stood up after a few moments, adjusting his coat nervously. "I have to go." he whispered to the floor. And then he was gone. Once again.

A week later, here he appeared again when Sam prayed for a little assistance in translating some Enochian writings he'd found tucked away in the Men Of Letters library. Cas sat across from Sam, and they murmured over stacks of musty books and papers. Instead of joining in, Dean stood silent against the wall, sipping on a beer and staring toward them. He was angry. Just the sight of Cas now pissed him off. After he'd just up and left, right when Dean finally had decided to try and make sense of their relationship. Cas didn't care. Cas didn't need him as much. Not even close. How could he? Dean was 90 percent pure crap, always would be. This angel of light and strength and power could never need this broken man. But the way Cas had left. Just left when Dean was opening his heart up, the way he ignored Dean now, wouldn't even look him in the eye anymore, was _shit. _  
"Cas!", he blurted loudly. "I need to talk to you alone."  
"Um, can it wait Dean, I'm helping your brother ri-"  
"NOW!", and he stomped off to his room, Cas in tail.  
He closed the door behind him softly and leaned against it, trying not to look at Dean on the other side of the silence that seperated them. He listened to his hard breathing, could hear Dean's heart pulsating, almost jumping out of his chest. It was too much, he didn't want to hear it, so he spoke.  
"What else do you want from me, Dean?", he almost whispered drowning out the quick beats only by a hair. Dean chuckled, rubbing his forehead with worn hands. He said nothing, trying to catch his nervous, angry breath, he simply lifted his beer to his mouth once again and stared into space.  
"Dean..I..."  
"You what, huh?! What is it with you, man? You know you don't bother to answer me anymore, but Sam calls and here you are quicker than fucking Flash! The minute he leaves, you're gone too! I just don't get you, man. You're too damn much for me." He stayed leant against the wall, bringing the bottle to his lips over and over again. Castiel stayed against the door, listening to the sound of Dean's anxious swallowing and his racing heart. He stared at the wall, wanting to speak so many words, left unsaid for so long. The only ones he found came out hoarse:  
"I just can't-"

The beer bottle went flying, smashing against the mildew walls, beer foaming and sloshing onto the floor.  
"Don't give me that crap!", Dean's voice boomed. "We've been through everything under the sun, been through so much shit, man! And you 'can't'?! 'Can't'?! You're a piece of work. After everything you say this. Maybe you should have said that in the beginning when you pulled my bleeding soul out of hell and started all this!"  
Cas came charging at him, shaking the wooden floors, slamming him against the wall, pinning one arm down with a tight grip. He pressed the weight of the Earth against Dean, knocking the wind out of him for a moment, making him gasp for air. He could hardly budge with the weight of Cas against him. Grasping Dean's shirt collar, Cas leveled his face with the freckled one in front of him, and breathed softly into Dean's open mouth. Bringing his hand down, he wrapped his arm around to Dean's back, creeping his fingers over the spine, feeling the sticky sweat.  
"Is this what you want, Dean?!", he said through gritted teeth. Their noses nearly touched, hot breath spilling over each face. Dean stood solid, green eyes gazing into blue watery diamonds.  
"I can't give you this! You don't understand that, you never have. I can give you the world, Dean! I'll do anything you ask. But this-", he pulled Dean tighter toward him, their torsos smashing together. "I can't give you all of me. Because of what we do. You forget you are not immortal, Dean! You are just a human. One day your time will come, and where does that leave me? Here. I can't bear that. I can not bear that. And I'm sorry, Dean...I am so sorry."  
Dean searched the angel's eye's for insincerity, finding nothing but a watery mess and sadness. Such sadness.  
"Come here.", Dean whispered gently, wiggling his arms out from between their warm bodies.  
"Come here.", he repeated, and ever so slightly creeped his hand up Cas's back, and gave his head a nudge, their lips meeting softly and tongues falling over each other like a stream over a bed of rocks. Silent and soft. Cas pulled his hand up shakily to Dean's hair running his fingers in and out. His other hand explored under Dean's shirt, running his fingertips over the peach fuzz on his pudgy belly and up over his navel until he reached his chest, and he found what he'd been searching for. He laid his palm over Dean's heart to feel the quick throbs, drubbing away. He could hear the pounding clearly like a tiny drum built into his chest, pounding out a beat to song. A song that was only a reminder that the man in front of him, was just that- a man, and at any time that tiny drum could stop and there'd be no turning back, no second verse. So he kissed him harder, gripped the hair tighter, and prayed that just for that day, the song wouldn't end.  
And then he was gone.


End file.
